Supreme Warlock System : From Zero to Ultimate With My Wives-Chapter 374: Rising Panic

Warlock Ch 374. Rising Panic

The morning came heavy and tense—thick with smoke, rumors, and the scent of rising panic.

It didn't take long for the murders to hit the inner circles of Sanctum's government like a mana blast to the gut. At first, the reports came in quietly—Amelia and Hendrik had gone missing. Then the whispers followed—disappearance, no trace, no communication spells received, no magical beacons triggered.

By noon, they weren't whispers anymore.

They were news.

And they weren't alone.

Within hours, the list of the missing expanded—Senator Alvren, Councilor Thessa, High Judge Callum, and three others. All of them known associates or political enablers of Ralvek. All of them with deep ties to the very underbelly of the corruption Damian and the others were targeting. Rank A to Rank S. Important, influential.

Gone.

Wiped out like they never existed. freёweɓnovel.com

Of course, it wasn't just that they were dead. No bodies. No explosive battles in the streets. No destruction that could be blamed on rogue magic. Just quiet, clean, surgical disappearances.

The panic spread like wildfire.

And worse—some of the fake evidence left behind, carefully planted by Damian, Victoria, Evelyn, and Cassius, had been intercepted. Stolen. Taken before it reached the intended hands. Some ended up exactly where they wanted—like seeds dropped into the right minds, pushing the narrative they were carefully constructing. That the murdered senators were traitors, collaborators, conspirators within the Sanctum itself.

But some of the fakes ended up where they shouldn't.

Into the hands of wrong people. Or perhaps too right of people—those who'd dig deeper than they should.

The Council's internal divisions began widening immediately. Factions accused one another. Emergency meetings were called, only to descend into shouting matches. Ralvek, normally untouchable and poised, was now more tense than anyone had ever seen him.

And that was when the roar came.

Not a metaphorical roar. A real one.

The sound of an ancient, powerful dragon unleashing its voice into the sky over Haven.

Everything stopped.

Councilors and magi who had been screaming at one another in the assembly chamber froze mid-argument. Soldiers and clerks looked up in dread. Even the wards surrounding the city shuddered at the resonance, like the city itself was holding its breath.

Everyone in the city—mages, nobles, even commoners—knew what that sound meant.

The dragons had arrived.

And suddenly, the game changed.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Back at Cassius' manor, the dining room was unusually quiet.

Not tense exactly, but filled with the kind of silence that came with too many thoughts and not enough answers.

The long obsidian table stretched across the polished stone floor, its surface gleaming faintly from the enchanted lights overhead.

Damian stood near that far end, hands resting on the back of the chair he hadn't sat in yet. His eyes were fixed on something invisible, brow furrowed just slightly—not enough to look bothered, but enough that the others noticed. His mind was elsewhere.

Cassius sat at the center of the table with his legs crossed at the ankle, one hand lazily tapping the rim of his crystal glass filled with what looked suspiciously like blood-red wine.

Evelyn sat at his right, flipping casually through one of the enchanted communication scrolls they'd intercepted from Sanctum's internal channels.

Victoria leaned against the wall near the windows, arms crossed, one leg casually kicked up behind her as she watched everyone with her usual predatory amusement.

Shadow servants moved efficiently in the background, preparing their lunch. The smell of buttered mana-bread and sizzling meat wafted through the air, faintly sweet, vaguely spicy. Comforting. Homely.

"So… to summarize," Cassius began, breaking the quiet as his finger finally stilled against the glass. "Four confirmed dead. Three more unaccounted for. Ralvek's inner circle is fraying faster than I expected. And to top it all off—dragons."

Victoria scoffed. "Never thought I'd hear that word again in politics. How long's it been since they last gave a damn about what happens down here? Fifty years? A hundred?"

"Two hundred," Evelyn corrected, eyes still on the scroll. "Last time was the Cold River Treaty. And they didn't participate. They just sent an observer."

Cassius nodded slowly, lifting the glass to his lips. "Which makes this worse. The fact that they're here—physically, vocally—means something major is shifting."

Damian didn't speak.

He stared out the tall glass windows as the warm glow of morning bled through the haze outside. The golden light didn't quite reach him. His shadow stretched long across the floor, still, unmoving.

Evelyn flicked her gaze to him. "You're quiet. That's not a good sign."

Damian didn't react at first. Then, slowly, he turned and finally sat in his chair, resting his forearms on the table's edge.

"I know why they're here," he said quietly.

That made everyone pause.

Victoria tilted her head. "And?"

Damian's fingers flexed once before curling loosely together. "There's a general. From the northern tribe. White-scaled. Titleholder of Frost Fang. She's… not the type to show up for appearances."

"Frost Fang?" Cassius echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's a name I haven't heard in a while. Thought she was more legend than fact."

"She's not," Damian muttered. "I met her. Once. When I was still… Kaelan."

That earned a sharp look from Evelyn. "When?"

"During the Western Wildfire campaign," Damian replied. "I was tracking a shipment of corrupted mana crystals being smuggled through dragon territory. Thought I could sneak in, steal the shipment, and vanish before anyone noticed. I needed something to build the artifact, to suppress the demon king's power."

"And?" Victoria asked.

Damian's lips tugged into a mirthless smirk. "She noticed."

Cassius laughed under his breath. "Let me guess—she kicked your ass."

"Nearly," Damian admitted, his voice quiet. "We both got hurt. I was bleeding out, she was limping from the shoulder I nearly tore apart. It should've ended there… but it didn't."

That made Evelyn pause mid-flip through her scroll. She blinked, visibly surprised. "You fought her to a draw?"

Damian leaned back, arms folding across his chest, gaze still far off like he was watching the past unfold across the window glass. "More like a standstill. I had the upper hand for a second—just a second. Long enough to kill her if I wanted to. But I didn't. She wasn't the enemy. Just… in the way."